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Irma picked up one of the stars, noticing that it reminded her of the pattern of her first kitchen curtains.  There were 4.2 reasons why she didn't really want to be reminded of that.  Before she could stop herself, she brushed her hand over the bush, poking her hands several times on the thorns, and all the stars fell to the ground.

Week Three

Irma pulled aside the curtain on the front door, peeked out, then stepped outside to check the weather.  No point in getting dressed until you knew about the weather.  Fifty-three degrees.  Partly sunny.  Okay.  Turning to go back inside, her attention was caught by the holly bush at the bottom of the front steps.  It was sprinkled here and there with shiny gold stars, about the size of a dime.  Moving closer, she poked at one, and it fluttered to a lower branch. 

Dear Jon Stewart,

I'm start to think you already have your hands plenty full dealing with all those people in Washington.  Man o Man!  How can they say such crazy stuff and get away with it?  I make just once teensy comment about the size of you know who's butt and only three other people hear it, and suddenly I'm off the Paint the Sunday School Room Committee and Lori Proctor, who has absolutely zero taste in paint, is in!  It just doesn't seem right.  It's okay, though, I'm not sure I fit in as well with those folks as my mom would like. 

So anyway, I'm still watching the show if I'm home and I'm still up, but I'm starting to see that the sort of problems I wanted you to solve are just not that big of a deal.  Except you might actually get somewhere with my ideas, unlike those people with the dull suits.

More

After the kitchen tidy-up, Irma checked the mouse trap under the sink--nothing.  She noticed the knob on the cupboard door was loose again, so she tightened up the screw.  On her way out of the kitchen, still pondering that coffee stain, her bare left foot stepped on something flat and cold.  A coin? she wondered.  No.  A button.  A red four-hole button.  Curiouser and curiouser.

Becca's Box

Rebecca has given me a gift that is essentially a writing challenge, a way to keep at it.  I am required to share one of my daily efforts each week.  Here goes:

Irma made some noodles for the soup she planned for dinner, then spent an hour cleaning the kitchen.  There was a stain on the counter she found particularly disturbing, a faint brown ring that she was sure must be coffee, yet she didn't remember even having coffee recently, let alone spilling it. 

I admit it's a weak effort.  But this is about practice.

Dear Jon Stewart,

So my boyfriend Justin (who is this close to being my ex boyfriend Justin) says I'm a clueless idiot to actually think you're going to do anything about the stuff I've been suggesting.  Actually, he says he doesn't even think you or anyone else even reads my letters.   

So it would help a lot with Justin, my boss and my mom, if you could just say like, hey Cindi, I'm getting your letters, but I can't do anything about them right now.  Or wink maybe.  Then I'd know. 

I'm really starting to wish I hadn't told them.  But I'm watching your show every night now.  Just in case.

All the best!

Cindi,
from you know where!

And Another Thing

Dear Jon Stewart,

I’ve been watching your show, well okay, just twice, but I also asked my boss, who never misses, to see if you’ve mentioned that left turn thing I wrote you about, and so far nothing.  But probably you do your stuff in advance, and you just need time to fit it in.  Except the stuff seems pretty recent, like today even, so maybe it’s just been a busy time.

I’ve got another one, and maybe since you haven’t talked about the left turn thing, you could just tack this on. 

It’s about grocery carts.  You know what I’m going to say.  Well maybe not, you probably live in New York City or something, and do they even have grocery carts in New York City?  Seems like there wouldn’t be room.

But here, or over in Evansville where I mostly shop, there is a big problem with people not putting their carts in the cart corral, even though the sign says you should.  Some signs even say you HAVE to.  I mean with the wind and everything, and sometimes the best parking spots being wrecked because there’s a gosh darned cart in the middle of it.  If it were just you and me, to be honest, I wouldn’t say gosh darned, I’d say the other thing, but you never know.  People just get so pissy about stuff like that.

So.  If you could just tell people, if they are going to take the cart outside, then they should put it away.  They don’t want their car getting dinged up, do they?  They don’t want the best spots plugged up with loose carts, do they?  Geez.

Thanks again,

Cindi

Boonville, IN

Purpose in Life

Dear Jon Stewart,

I figure you are the right guy to help me with this, because a lot of people listen to you.  Well, my boss listens to you, and he’s the kind of guy who listens to stuff a lot of other people listen to.

The problem is this.  Could you tell people who are first in line at the left turn green arrow that their only purpose in life is to watch the green arrow light, and go when it turns green?  I mean, it’s fine if they take a second or two to make sure no dickhead is running the red light.  But otherwise, they are not to take their eyes off that light, and then just go for Christ’s sake?

Thanks.  I mean, it just isn’t fair for them to sit there doing whatever else they’re doing, like finding a better radio station or checking their teeth for poppy seeds or whatever, then notice the left turn arrow is yellow, THEN they go, but nobody else gets to.  You see what I mean?

So if you could just mention this, I’m sure it help.  For some people.  For other people, there is just no cure for stupid.

Thanks a bunch,

Cindi

Boonville, IN